The Arrow of Retribution
by ShadowBlaze15
Summary: A collection of Oneshots with varying champions getting a glimpse into the true morals behind the man known as Varus, The Arrow of Retribution. Some even discover that Varus isn't as emotionless as he makes himself out to be. T because I tend to subconsciously curse often.
1. The Unforgiven

Author's note added 10/30/2015: So... It seems that this isn't just going to be a one shot like I thought it would. Huh. Weird. In the case that I do end up posting more of these, I figured a headline might help new readers (and possibly older ones) understand how I work. I am the type of guy who can't promise you anything about my stories. I may take you on a grand, thirty chapter adventure through time and space and all that jazz. Or I may write a page, lose all inspiration for it, dump the file somewhere on my computer and forget about it for maybe years at a time. Therefore, I enjoy doing collections of one-shots or similar deals, since I have no obligation to write any more than I already have.

TL;DR: I suck at maintaining update schedules, so I won't promise you that I'll ever update. That way it can be a decent surprise for all of us!

I have edited this chapter with (hopefully) better word choice and more clarity of who is speaking.

Now with that out of the way, I hope you enjoy the story.

1\. The Unforgiven

He was running. From his family, his friends, his country. He hated it. He wanted to turn himself in to them, to beg forgiveness for his lack of judgement. But he couldn't. For his lack of judgement wasn't the only reason he was wanted. Someone had framed him for the murder of the very elder he had been supposed to be protecting. He couldn't allow them to kill him, even though he deserved it, until he brought the real murderer to justice. So he ran.

Night was coming on quickly, and Yasuo knew he would need to stop soon, but he kept running. He didn't plan to stop this night. Until he saw the firelight. He came to a stop, slowly approaching the firelight from an angle that would allow him to see whoever had lit it before they saw him. Just because his country no longer trusted him, didn't mean he would leave it to bandits, or demons.

He crawled up onto a small ledge that gave him a view of the area around the fire below. On a log next to the fire pit sat a lone man with fair brown hair, tied in a short ponytail behind his head. He had a white scarf tied around his neck, with two long tails draping off behind it. There was an armor pauldron adorning his left shoulder, making way for a white sleeve that ran the length of his arm and tucked neatly into the brown glove on his hand. His right arm was bare. Attached to the pauldron by a brown and golden belt was a circular armor plate adorning the right side of his breast. He wore dark colored pants under a golden belt, with light blue armored pieces attached to his upper thighs. Adorning his feet were golden boots which were large enough to cover his entire lower legs, from the knees down. Yasuo assumed that these were armored as well. He did not recognize the man as any wanted criminals, and he wondered just how daring - or stupid - this man was to be alone near a fire as bright as his on a dark night like this one.

The man sighed, and turned his head to look at the cliff. Yasuo was fairly certain that he was concealed enough that the man wouldn't be able to see him, but the man stood up and spoke in a rough voice "Come out from the shadows. I feel your presence." Yasuo was now afforded a view of the Owl tatoo adorning the man's forehead, and of his bright, golden eyes. The man appeared unarmed, which unnerved Yasuo further. He used a trick that he had taught himself to make his voice sound as if it were coming from behind the man. "Why would any lone man light a fire in this location on a night like this? You're just inviting trouble, my friend." The man glanced behind him, then returned his attention to the cliff. "There are rumors of a party of Noxian assassins roaming these hills, murdering all who come in their path." The man sat back down upon his log as he spoke, but kept his head tilted in Yasuo's direction. "I'm hoping that they will think along the same logic that you just have, so that I may remove them from my homeland." Yasuo recalled hearing rumors to that effect, though when and where escaped him. "And just what makes you believe that a lone, unarmed man has any chance of defeating a team of trained Noxian assassins?" Yasuo paused to wait for an answer, before something occurred to him. "And why haven't you attacked me yet, with the knowledge that I could be of these assassins?" The man laughed, a deep, menacing laugh. "I am far from unarmed, my friend. And as to your second question…" the man shrugged. "I've learned to trust my instincts lately, and my instinct is telling me that you will not attack me. Unless, I assume, I give you a reason to." The man returned his gaze to the fire. "Of course, you have absolutely no reason to trust me. Leave me if you will, attack me if you will, sit down and enjoy another lonely man's company if you will. I leave the decision to you." The smart thing to do in this situation would be to bid the man a good night, and be on his way, yet for some reason he could not rationalize, Yasuo believed this man would do him no harm. And indeed, swapping stories by a fire would be a much preferable way to spend the night over being holed up inside a stump somewhere. He dropped to the ground, and greeted the man properly.

"My name is Yasuo. I am a wanderer, taking the less traveled paths to see what beauties Ionia has to offer." Yasuo casually rolled a log from the edge of the clearing closer to the fire, being careful to keep his attention in the direction of the brown haired man. He took a seat, unbuckling his sword and placing it within easy reach. "I thank you kindly, friend, for sharing your fire with me tonight. May I have your name, that we may make our conversations easier?" The man's brown hair was blowing behind him in the wind, along with his white scarf. He turned and regarded Yasuo for a moment, before carefully responding, "I have no name. I am merely the shell of a man. A man who disgraced himself, destroyed himself for a pointless chance at revenge. I represent his hatred, and that sense of revenge is the only thing that guides me." For a moment, the man was overcome by a purple blight. His skin became tinted purple, his hair a faded white, his scarf a blood red. His body from the waist down, and his arms, were consumed by a dark purple taint. Yasuo drew back, and the vision faded.

The man was staring at the fire again, his brown hair hanging almost sadly in front of his face. "If you insist on a name to call me by, his will do as well as any other, I suppose. I was once called Varus." Yasuo looked up at him. "Varus? I believe I've heard of you. They say that you are the quickest shot with a bow in all of Ionia." Varus kept his eyes on the fire, as he replied, "If only I hadn't been the quickest. If only I hadn't been the one selected to guard that temple. Maybe they'd still be alive…" Yasuo noted the pain shining in Varus' eyes. This man was haunted by ghosts of his past. Yasuo could sympathise with that.

In the hours that followed, Yasuo and Varus told each other the tales of their grief. They each touched on happier lives that had been ended by the Invasion of Noxus. All the brave warriors they had known whose lives had been ended at the end of a cold Noxian blade. Yasuo began to tell Varus about the last attack on his village. How he had abandoned his post as guardian of the elder, and had been blamed for the murder itself. He told of how he fled the temple, and his fight with his brother, Yone. Varus returned the favor by telling of the Noxian assault on the temple he was posted to guard. How he had chosen to stay and perform his duty rather than run to his village at the base of the hill the temple was standing on to guard his loved ones. He told the tale of a lone archer who killed the entire Noxian force. He told of how he had ran down the hill to find his village in ruins, his wife and son dead. He told him of how he had sworn to kill the Noxians in cold blooded revenge. Yasuo nodded. He was fully prepared to kill anyone who got between him and this assassin, and bring back proof that he wasn't the one who had killed the elder.

Yasuo jerked awake to the sound of bow strings being released, of arrows hitting the stone around him, and of a demonic laugh filling the air. Yasuo sprung up, and on the other side of the smoldering fire pit, he saw Varus, skin tinged purple, corrupted fur covering his legs and arms, and a large, demonic bow in his hand. Blood red arrows would materialize in it whenever Varus drew back his arm, and it was with these that he slew the figures in the Noxian armor. "You will all burn in the darkest hell that exists for the crimes that you have committed to me, Ionia, and all of Runeterra! Face my arrows, and let my retribution reach your black hearts!" His voice had a demonic echo to it, despite the fact that there was no terrain around which it could be echoing from. Yasuo hesitated for a moment, considering striking down that demon that Varus seemed to have become, but instead sprung forth and slew the Noxian that had appeared on the cliff above, before he had a chance to release his arrow towards Varus. Varus looked back at him, nodded, and turned back to continue his barrage on the main force of the Noxians. Yasuo faced the group that stood upon the cliff before him.

"It is considered rude to speak to one's back, and so I find it rude to put a sword to one's back. Now face me with honor!" Yasuo sprung into the group, his blade whirring this way and that, slaying all who got too close. His mind was running on a single track that kept his blade spinning, adjusting only mildly to deflect a blade here or catch an exposed throat there. It was the moments like this, moments where he could lose himself in the exertion of battle, that Yasuo truly felt alive. His dance of death went uninterrupted, until his brain registered that his blade had hit nothing but air for a good three seconds. He gradually came to a stop, and gazed back at the trail of bloodshed that led from the top of the cliff to where he was currently standing. He sheathed his blade.

"That was some of the best swordwork I've seen in a long while, beautiful - and deadly." Varus strode through the forest towards him, still in the appearance of a demon, but the bow was nowhere to be seen. Yasuo deliberately kept his hand on his blade as he turned to Varus and stated, "These Noxian scum must be purged from our homeland. I will spare them no mercy while they threaten our friends and neighbors. However, now that the Noxian threat has been dealt with, I must evaluate whether there is another threat within my immediate vicinity."

Varus lifted his arms into his view, and just gazed at them for a few seconds. "I have not told you the end of my tale. For you see, inside the temple that I was guarding, there slept an ancient evil. I was posted to make sure that it never got out. But, when I returned to my village, to find my wife and son murdered, something in me broke. I returned to the temple, and willingly gave myself to the corruption inside. It gave me this power, but at what cost, I'm afraid I don't fully know yet." Yasuo nodded carefully. "My heart tells me you are a good man, Varus, and tells me that you will be an invaluable ally yet to Ionia in the years to come. It is only because of this that I do not cut you down here and now. What other action could I take, when you are willingly performing acts that we condemn our enemy for? But, I promise you, on the day that your corruption forces your hand to take an Ionian life, You will find me before you again, with blade in hand rather than sheath." Varus nodded grimly.

"I would do the same for you, if our positions were reversed. My vengeance is for the guilty only - the day this corruption forces my bow on an innocent life is the day that I am no longer a force of retribution. When that day comes, I would consider it a great favor to have the darkness in my form removed from this world by your blade, friend." With this statemnt by Varus, Yasuo released the grip on his blade, and turned to face the rising sun. His thoughts were drifting back to his current predicament, back to plans of clearing his name. Before he took a step forward, he glanced back over his shoulder. "Until we meet again, Varus, The Arrow of Retribution." Varus nodded. "Fare well in your quest, Yasuo, The Unforgiven." The turned to each other to shake hands, before each turned their separate ways, each striding towards a future that they could only hope would be better than the present that they found themselves in. Yasuo's path lead him towards the light of the sun, and Varus' away from it. Yasuo shook his head as he walked. "Somehow, I doubt that this is the last I'll be hearing of Varus…" The swordsman took one last look back at the retreating figure of Varus, and saw a small shimmer pass over him, before he returned to the human appearance that he had been maintaining before the Noxian attack. Yasuo briefly wondered what form of magic Varus was using to disguise himself thus - it seemed like it would be quite handy for infiltrating public meetings for information. He turned his head back, wondering whether or not he should ask him, but Varus had already vanished back into the forest.


	2. The Spear of Vengeance

I like how in the few months after I wrote the first chapter of this, I tried several times to write a second. I had one with Ahri, one with Shyvana, and one with Irelia, before I gave up and figured that I'd never touch this story again. Then Riot released Kindred, and I figured it would be cool to see how those two interacted with Varus. So a few ideas ran through my mind, and one took hold. It wasn't long before I figured that the idea I had would fit better with Kalista rather than Kindred, and with a few minor adjustments, this happened. I'm not too happy with how short it is, and if I ever get a case of inspiration on it I'll probably end up either rewriting the whole thing or just touching up and adding details. But until then, ah well. I just hope it isn't complete crap.

With that out of the way, Enjoy the story.

2\. The Spear of Vengeance

It was approaching midnight on this calm Ionian spring night when Varus came upon the large tree that was sitting alone atop a small hilltop. He gave the tree a quick once-over, before deciding that this tree was a good one. He braced himself, and with one quick leap, landed upon the topmost branch that he was confidant would support his weight. Laying back on the branch, he allowed the magic that he nearly constantly kept disguising him to dissipate, revealing the purpling skin on his upper half and the dark corruption on his lower half. He gazed up at the light of the half-moon falling down upon him through the leaves above, and sighed wistfully to himself. Before he could relax too much, however, an eerie presence made itself known to him.

He knew this presence as not one, but a collection of spirits. They took the form of a human woman with unearthly blue skin, wearing an ancient armor with ethereal spears protruding from their back. From their head splayed midnight blue hair, so dark that to most people it appeared black. Over this the spirits wore a helm that framed the form's face, minus the underside, and formed a funnel slightly behind the forehead on the top, allowing for more of their hair to be funneled upwards.

Varus was pretending that he wasn't aware of the spirits' presence, and they were pretending that they didn't know that he was aware of their presence. Varus found this to be very annoying, as he didn't want to be the one to break the silence, yet he also wanted the spirits to begone sooner rather than later. He allowed the stalemate to persist for another few moments, before his desire for the spirits to leave overwhelmed his unwillingness to speak.

"Haven't I told you enough, Kalista, that I will not take your oath?" The form smiled. "Haven't you heard the tales that speak of our persistence, Varus?" Varus slid back against the tree's trunk so that he could face the spirits sitting up. He took note that the spirits were standing on one leg at the very tip of the branch, far beyond the point where the branch would have broken if their form had had a reasonable weight for it's size. "Of course I have heard the tales. In the tales, however, The Spear of Vengeance is usually persisting against their target, not one whom they might wish to have reason to call upon them." "Is persistence not something that may take many forms?" Varus took note as the spirits switched which leg they were standing upon.

"That is a whole other discussion in and of itself. If you have only come to me on this night to pester me with your request for me to take your oath, then begone, for I have already answered your request." Varus knew that the spirits would not leave, however, until the morning dawn forced them to, as was the case with every previous time the spirits had come to offer him their bond. "You know that we are as much stubborn as we are persistent, Varus. We can and will remain here until the dawn's first light, as you well know." Varus was preparing himself for another sleepless night spent having a staring contest with the spirits, when the form suddenly stiffened.

"You are granted reprieve from us for this night, Varus, for we are being called upon elsewhere. Know, however that we will continue to return to you, until you accept our pact." With that the form of the spirits slowly faded from view, until Varus was left alone once more upon his branch in the tree. He did not move, nor did he take his eyes from the spot that the spirits' form had been for a good long while. Once he was satisfied that the spirits had actually departed, he allowed himself to slide into a position where he was lying down again. His thoughts were on the spirits' offer. As much help as they would be taking out the Noxian invaders, Varus would not accept them. He knew that his vengeance was something that he must take with his bow, not with their spear. After reaffirming this to himself, Varus allowed his eyes to shut. As he drifted off to sleep in the branches of the tree, Varus told himself once more that, no matter how persistent they turned out to be, he would not take the Spear of Vengeance's pact.


End file.
